Sir Robert Takes it in The Shorts; Sledgehammer Nightmare Story # 18

Enough! Sir Robert Timkins said to himself. He'd sat
around and bemoaned the fact that his hybrid band, Sledgehammer
Nightmare, wasn't going anywhere, for far too long. He'd been so
sure of success when he'd dreamed up crossing two of the most
popular types of music; opera, which he was trained in, and death
metal which was all the rage with the young people. But, he had
been proven wrong. They managed to record a demo, and the people
they'd played it for had laughed, laughed! He was sick of trying
to figure out where they'd gone wrong. He just didn't get it. He
needed to stop dwelling on their failure and get out of the
house.He hadn't been record shopping in a while; he'd hit the
local record store, and just browse.

The booming and throbbing beat of some kind of metal greeted Sir
Robert as he walked into Hell-Hammer records, and looked for the
cassette section. It was nice to just be a customer looking
through records, well, cassettes, really. He'd forgotten how much
he'd enjoyed this. Lately, all he'd been focused on was
Sledgehammer Nightmare. He'd put everything his life used to be
about, such as just enjoying a day out at a record store, on hold
because of his burning desire to have The Hammer be a success.
His eyes lazily scanned the titles for sale. He wished he could
afford something, but with the way Sledgehammer Nightmare was
sucking the money out of his pocket, he couldn't; he was flat
broke. He was thinking it was about time to get going, when his
eyes fell on the new Steamhammer Deluxe album, ' The Face-Torch
Fire Brigade'. Wow; that he just had to have; he loved
Steamhammer Deluxe! But, he was flat-a** broke. There was no way
he could buy that. But damn it, he wanted it! He should have
enough guts to just swipe it. No, he wasn't that type. Or was he?
He looked at the door; no one could see. The cash register was
clear on the other side of the store. It was tempting.

He fought a war with his conscience, with guilt on one side, and
greed on the other. Guilt said,

"Don't do it, it would be dishonest!"

From the opposite end of his brain, greed smiled seductively, and
whispered, "Oh, come on, do it. You know you want it; no one's
looking, just stuff it down your pants, and casually walk out!"

Greed won the argument. It was a hot day, and he'd worn shorts.
He grabbed the cassette, and jammed it down the front. He
nervously glanced at the sales clerk, way across the store; no
one had seen. He casually walked, rather stiff legged, towards
the door. This was easy! Guilt kept up a running commentary in
his head, telling him this was so wrong, but greed shouted him
down, saying why the hell not; after all, did he or did he not
want the damn tape? If he did, this was the only way.

As he approached the door, he stole one more nervous glance at
the sales clerk, and reached out to open the door. The sun was
shimmering, and he was headed home with rock! As his hand found
the bar that would open the door, a screeching wail rang through
the store. An alarm; oh s**t! He saw the sales clerk running
towards him, and panicked. He sprinted out the door.

"Stop, thief!" the sales clerk yelled behind him. As he ran, the
stolen tape flew out of his shorts and clattered to the pavement.
It slid along the pavement, but Sir Robert kept running;
desperate to get away. He cut through the parking lot between two
parked cars. Behind him, he heard the sales clerk shout from the
doorway of the record shop,

"Somebody stop him! He's a shoplifter!"

All he had to do is make it out of the parking lot, and then he
could disappear among the many buildings. He was going to make
it; what had he been thinking? He was no thie---suddenly, without
warning, the door of one of the two cars he was cutting between
swung open. He couldn't stop, and ran head on into the door. All
forward momentum was instantly halted, and Sir Robert remembered
nothing after that.

The bright light hurt his eyes. He blinked in confusion; where
was he? A medic was looking into his eyes with a penlight
flashlight.

"Officer," he said to a guy in a policeman's uniform, who was
standing behind him, "he'll be okay, he just got his bell rung."

"Okay, thanks; are you sure this is the man?" This last comment
was directed to the store clerk, who replied,

"Yeah, that's the shoplifter."

Oh crap, now he remembered. The policeman was saying to the
acne-faced sales clerk,

"Boy, it's a good thing that older lady opened her car door to go
to bingo when she did, or he may have got away."